


Over My Head

by Squishy_TRex



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-06
Updated: 2013-08-06
Packaged: 2017-12-22 15:33:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/914906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Squishy_TRex/pseuds/Squishy_TRex
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The headaches started the day his brother died.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Over My Head

His brother lingers. Remnants of emotions and thoughts of fear, confusion, helplessness, and love. It’s enough to drive the average person insane. But Raleigh Becket, the second pilot to drive a Jaeger solo, one half of the famous Becket Brothers team, is anything but average. And so he survives.

Still, with his mind constantly fighting against the cling of another, there’s bound to be side effects. And the day after Gipsy crashes and he loses his entire world, the headaches start.

At first, they were intense. Like if someone was taking an icepick to his head and dragging it through his brain. The first year had him keeled over in pain with no relief, his brother’s voice mixing with the constant pain, the turmoil would have been enough to drive anyone insane. On the rare nights that he could sleep, he always woke up screaming his brother’s name until he was hoarse, the tears mingling with sweat. But Raleigh persevered, became accustomed to having two voices in his head, and the pain started to settle by the end of that torturous first year.

He made the decision to let his brother stay.

Now the pain is a part of him. It’s died down to a steady pulsing, the intervals so regular that he uses them to keep time. The memory and tattered remnants of his brother’s consciousness are branded into Raleigh’s brain. Once he accepted that, his brain relaxed and the world seemed to shift in his favor again.

And hey, in the completely fucked up corner of his mind, the headaches let him know his brother still lives.

But after 5 years, he’s completely used to caring for the headaches himself. They’re never going away and out there, among the rabble working the wall, no one cared. It was easy to hide them when no one cared.

But now he’s in the Shatterdome, surrounded by people who pay attention to him. He was brought here to help save the world and god forbid he show any weakness or that Australian upstart would never let him live it down.

Needless to say, Raleigh’s been doing everything in his power to make sure no one knows about the headaches that come almost every day or anytime he thinks about Yancy. It’s like clockwork now, he can time it to the second, can determine how long he’s allowed to think about his brother before it’s too late to turn back. Raleigh doesn’t miss Alaska and the way he lived there, but if he was going to give it any modicum of praise, it would be that he could control the headaches much better there.

He hates that the headaches are worse here. Surrounded by people he knows, in an environment that had been his home for far too long, and having Gipsy right there. All of it’s a slam in the face, a reminder of how badly he fucked up.

So he starts to limit his contact. If he’s not training, he’s confining himself to his quarters and riding out wave after wave of pain, of memories that constantly resurface. After all, he’s not the only one in his head anymore. Hasn’t been for five years.

Thankfully, no one seems to notice anything’s wrong. The impending apocalypse occupies everyone’s attention and as long as he’s battle-ready, no one really cares about Raleigh.

But then he Drifts with Mako. And she knows. She knows everything and that brings out a sharp feeling of guilt. He doesn’t need to burden her with anything else. She is the strongest, most pure person he’s ever met. Tragedy claws at her too, but she uses it to her advantage, honing the anger and vengeance into sharp steel.

He is weak, allowing tragedy to drag him down and burn his once bright soul into nothing but ash and the memory of a brother who never leaves. Who he allowed to stay, because life without him was too painful.

God he was a fucking mess.

After that first Drift, she doesn’t say anything. Even when the noise in his head starts to settle for the first time in five fucking years. Yancy’s got company and unlike him, her presence doesn’t hack away at the last strands of Raleigh’s sanity. Mako in his mind is like a healing balm that soothes the jagged edges of Yancy’s memory. She is the tiny piece of heaven in his mind that keeps growing and growing the more times they Drift.

But as strong and calming as Mako is, Yancy’s presence has gripped Raleigh too tightly. She knows this and he’s waiting for her to say something, because god knows he’s too much of a coward to begin THAT conversation.

He doesn’t have to wait too long.

She comes to him after their first ghost drift. When he accidentally traps them both in his nightmarish mind, unrestrained by the peace of a controlled Drift. There are nights when blood and screams run rampant through his brain, all of his brother’s final feelings drowning any peaceful dreams. It’s easier to keep that confined during the day, with his guard up. His years of practiced control and technique have helped to make his nights bearable in recent years. But all the control in the world isn’t always enough. So some nights, it gets bad.

This would be one of those nights.

The nightmare begins with Yancy dying, being ripped away from him, then the two of them playing the backyard, some made up game with rules that constantly change. Then it’s back to Alaska and Knifehead is taking his brother away. There’s a gaping hole in Gipsy that mirrors the one in his soul. He sees flashes of Yancy alive, young, beating up punks in the schoolyard, when they first entered the Academy. A clap on the shoulder, “we’re gonna do this, be the best pilots they’ve ever seen,” their first kill, the feeling of invincibility. Then it’s back to Alaska.

It always comes back to Alaska, his head _thump thump thumping_ all the way there.

There’s nothing Raleigh hasn’t seen before, these feelings and images seared into his brain in a way that surpasses mere memory.

But this time there was an audience, peeking, intruding into the dredges of a torn-up mind.

Raleigh awakes from the nightmare drenched in sweat and shame with his head on fire. Hands clutch at mussed blankets as the inevitable clang of flesh on metal reaches his ears.

The headache leaves barely enough strength for him to move out of bed, but if he can pull himself off the floor of a bar with his brother yelling in his head and a broken bottle coming against his back, he can do this.

When he finally clambers to his feet, the knocking has grown louder, almost frantic. He opens the door and braces himself for impact.

She doesn’t say anything. The fact that she’s standing here at his door in an empty hallway at 3 in the morning says enough.

“’m sorry,” he mumbles, unable to meet her eyes. She hasn’t made any motion.

“You need my help,” she states gently, but in the blunt manner Raleigh’s accustomed to. He ducks his head even lower, burning a gaze through the floor.

She touches his arm gently. “You are a very strong man, Raleigh,” his head jerked up at the sound of his first name, daring to meet her eyes for a split second as something other than “Mr. Becket” left her mouth. “But you do not have to be strong by yourself. Not anymore.”

Tears prick the corner of his eyes, his hands shaking as she takes them in hers. Her calloused fingers stroke over his own and then one of her hands reaches up to gently stroke at his throbbing temple. He whimpers at the soothing touch.

Raleigh allows her to lead him back towards the bed, lets himself look at her. Mako’s here and all she has is love for him.

She pulls him onto the mattress. They’re lying side by side, facing each other, but his eyes are still firmly closed. He grunts in pain as the soft hammering of a headache turns into the sharp slicing of a migraine.

Mako rubs his temple with her cool fingers, the motion cooling the pain in brief spurts. The tears finally start to fall, the pain edging them out one by one. Mako’s forehead creases as she wipes them away.

“Should I get the pain medication?” Her voice wavers for a moment. Remnants of the ghost drift allow some of the pain to trickle into her mind and it’s excruciating. She is in awe of his strength, of the weight he’s carried for five years.

“No,” Raleigh responds. Her motions and presence alone are doing wonders that medicine can’t. He can bear this. His co-pilot is here and she understands. Raleigh smiles. Through all the pain and _thump thump thumping_ of his head, he smiles because with every touch, the _thump thump thumping_ gets a little bit quieter. He can bear this with her.

“Just…please stay with me. That’s all I need.”

Mako smiles softly and leans forward to kiss him softly, first on the lips, then on the forehead.

And she stays.


End file.
